Sweet
by kellyannkanye
Summary: Bella runs a bakery in New York City when a new regular catches her attention. Edward is hiding where he came from, but the truth always comes out. E/B, HEA work in progress
1. Chapter 1

Late evening at the bakery was one of Bella's favorite times. As the afternoon crowds filtered out, there was something comforting about cleaning everything and putting it back to right. She was normally here for the opening shifts, up at 3 or 4 in the morning to begin mixing and proofing the bread dough, but one of the front end girls called out sick so she stayed late to help keep things moving.

She stretched her arms and shoulders out. It had been a long day. She took a quick break around 11AM to eat something, but other than that, had been on her feet for most of the day.

And yet, she lingered.

Her family owned the bakery and she one of the head bakers. The kitchen was more or less closed for the day, with the last rounds of bagels, breads, and sweets having been baked a few hours ago. Because of this, the small, industrial kitchen was all hers.

She didn't want to stay too long, but she had a memory floating in the back of her mind. It was a garlicky pastry that her grandmother used to make. Her grandmother had passed away a few years ago, and she was sure her grandfather would appreciate seeing one of her old recipes resurrected. And if it went over well, the bakery could always use some authentic specials.

Bella's family was mostly Escrovian. It was a small, mountainous country in Europe, between Italy and France. The bakery had been in their family for 4 generations, since her grandparents emigrated from Escrovia.

The bakery was the only remaining Escrovian bakeshop in Brooklyn. Their neighborhood had been a small enclave of Escrovian immigrants a few decades ago, but cities change. Now, their neighbors were as like to be Puerto Rican, Korean, or Russian. Her grandfather grumbled about the withering of his community sometimes, but also ate more kimchi than anyone she knew.

Regardless, their small bakery was bedecked in Escrovian pride. A large flag hung outside the front door, and on the walls was a soccer jersey from the national team and a picture of JFK shaking the Escrovian prime minister's hand. It was all a bit much, Bella thought with a mental eye roll.

Even she had to admit, though, that her grandmother's baking was what to aspire to. And that was what had her at the bakery late, toasting pine nuts and roasting garlic, as the last of the employees left. With the place to herself, she cranked the music a little higher, marinating the chicken in a garlic and basil sauce. As the ingredients came together, the bakery began to smell amazing.

She finally pulled the chilled dough out of the fridge, quickly throwing down some flour on the counter with an experienced flick of the wrist. It was critical to work quickly because there was so much butter in the dough. She didn't have a recipe, but was working off her memory of the pastry and a general knowledge of baking.

She started humming along with the music as she pinched the corners of the small pastry puffs together, sealing the chicken, basil, and garlic inside. Once they were all closed, she quickly topped them with the pine nuts and popped them in the waiting oven.

She was just wiping down the counter as they were baking when she heard the front door open. She straightened, annoyed that the last cashier to leave hadn't locked up, and that she hadn't checked the lock either.

"Sorry, we close at 4," she called, bumping the swinging door to the kitchen open.

"You're closed?" The man in the doorway looked so crestfallen, that she felt a twinge of guilt but also annoyance. Everyone in their neighborhood knew what time they closed. She met his deep green eyes and wavered a moment. "But I swore I smelled some pastelitos." He sniffed the air.

She recognized the slight accent as similar to her grandfather's. Every now and again, they got a visitor from Escovia that was new to the city and looking for a taste of home, or younger college students looking to impress their foreign relatives during a family visit.

"Yes, I have a batch in the oven, but we're closed. Recipe development."

"Too bad, they're my favorite. My sister makes them with basil and pine nuts. Sorry to interrupt." He pushed the door open behind him.

She bit her lip. "Hang on, they'll be out in a minute." He turned, a gleeful expression lighting up his face. "Can't turn away a visitor from the old country, my grandfather would disown me. And you can help with research and development."

He laughed as she grabbed the tray from the oven. The pastries had browned nicely, but were they smaller than she remembered? Also, the nuts had browned more than she liked.

She grabbed a notebook from the counter and scribbled a note to herself to skip the pre-toasting on the nuts. Vaguely, she registered that the visitor had followed her into the kitchen and seated himself on one of their wooden stools.

"I think you should wait at least five minutes," she said, watching out of the corner of her eye as he reached toward the hot pastry.

"I'm an expert at burning my mouth, actually. I'm impervious to your mortal limitations," he snarked as he snagged one juggling it from hand to hand. He delicately took a bite and positively moaned.

She blushed, her eyes having caught up to how attractive her visitor was. His copper hair was long and just a bit wind-tousled, falling into his bright eyes. He had long fingers that held the pastry as he blew on it. The sound of his moan was just a little salacious.

"Just like home," he pronounced. "I really like them this size, actually. Sometimes in the city, they make them really big, but then the bottom gets a little soggy. This is better."

She shook herself away from staring at him. "I knew they were normally bigger," she muttered, scratching down another note.

"What is your name and when can I hire you to make this every day?" he asked, polishing off the last bit of it.

"I think it's customary for people breaking and entering after hours to introduce themselves first," Bella quipped, blowing on her own pastelito.

She saw him look up at her in surprise. "Oh, it's um - Anthony. Anthony." He paused. "Sorry, I thought that you - I thought I had introduced myself already."

She grinned. "hard to be offended if it's my baking that distracted you. I'm Bella."

"The baker was pretty distracting as well," he said, throwing her a wink. "Where are you from, Bella?"

She shrugged. "Here. Brooklyn. My family's Escovian, obviously, but I'm a New Yorker."

"Oh. I mean, you sound very New Yawk," he drew out the vowels a little bit. "But these are amazing. Provincial. Authentic. Homey. I assumed you were born there, at least."

She blushed a little at his praise, sweeping off the counter. "No. This is my first trial run with these actually, but I remember my grandmother making them. I think next time I'll go with dark meat instead. I am glad I got the sign off from an expert though, before they go to my grandfather for judgement." Her coy tone was flirtatious.

She heard the front door open again. "Bellita! What's this I smell?"

She rolled her eyes. "Speak of the devil." She raised her voice a little. "In here, Papi! I have a surprise for you!"

The door swung open and revealed her grandfather. At 81 years old, he was still active, and moved well, despite his sloping back and his cane. "Pastelitos! Bellita, this brings me back!" He grabbed one of the tarts, and only then noticed Anthony. "Who's this? Friend of yours?"

Bella blushed, watching Anthony smirk a bit. "A new friend," she said smoothly. "Fresh off the boat, it seems. This is Anthony."

"Nice to meet you, sir," he said, extending a hand to her grandfather. "You have a wonderful bakery here. A little piece of home, in the middle of the city."

Her Papi's face split into a wide smile. "An Escovian! Well, you're always welcome here! Where are you from, amiccee?"

"Landistown," Anthony said, naming the capital city. "And yourself?"

"Landistown! Lovely city! Love the football team. I'm from Reischard. It's a small village."

Anthony nodded. "Near Mount Ganclee, I know it. The trees there in the spring are so lovely."

Bella thought her grandfather was going to faint of joy. No one ever knew the small town of his youth, even the other Escovians in town.

Her Papi looked over at her. "New friend, eh? Keep an eye on this one, Bellita."

Bella blushed and finished wiping down the counters, bagging a few pastry up for each of the men, who were now speaking in rapid Escovian. She knew a few words, but they were going too fast and she got lost.

Until the Escovian turned from cheerful to a bit more serious, and Anthony made a strange sound, halfway between a snort and a laugh.

She turned, curious, and saw Anthony studying the floor with great interest before he looked back up at her grandfather and spoke for several minutes in a quiet, serious tone. Her grandfather nodded in response, seemingly satisfied.

"I'll head back upstairs, Bellita. Don't you stay here working too late," her Papi teased. "And these are perfect. You should talk to your cousin about putting them on the menu." He clapped Anthony on the shoulder. "Come by anytime, Anthony. And anything you need in this city, I have a lot of contacts. You tell any Escovian you know Pietro Swan, and they'll take care of you."

"Appreciate it, sir," Anthony said as Bella rolled her eyes.

"Excuse him, he thinks he's a one-man welcoming committee," she said as soon as the door swung shut. "What were you two chattering about?"

He caught her gaze, his eyes sparkling. "Well, he asked if I stared at all the pretty bakers in Landistown, or if my manners left me once I got to New York."

She both blushed and groaned. "He didn't…"

"And I told him that it only happened around exceptionally beautiful bakers that welcome in strangers with pastelitos."

She made a face. "You did not give that cheesy line to my grandfather. He would have kicked you out."

He grinned. "Ok, I didn't tell him that exactly. But I did tell him that I'd be a perfect gentleman around you in the future."

She raised her eyebrows. "The future, eh?"

He grabbed the bag of leftovers that she had left for him and headed for the door. "Well of course. Now that I know where to get the best baked goods in the city, I will definitely be seeing more of you, Bella." He winked and raised the bag. "Thank you, truly. These mean more than you think." And then the door swung shut behind him.

Bella finished cleaning up, thinking that Anthony was exceptionally charming and somehow very strange.

Outside the bakery, a black car was waiting at the curb. The windows were tinted, but Edward didn't pause before opening the passenger side door.

"Dude, this isn't funny anymore," said the driver, a large, muscular man with close cropped curls.

"Sorry, Emmett. I just meant to run out for a few things and then I smelled pastelitos. And you know me…"

"God forbid you pass up baked goods," the larger man grumbled. "Are those for me?"

"They're for _us_. I'll come back with you sometime. If these are any indication, the rest of the food here must be awesome. And the baker is gorgeous."

Emmett shook his head. "A girl? An American girl?"

"Her grandparents are Escovian. She might even be full Escovian, I didn't ask for a pedigree," Edward snapped. "Also, she thinks she just met Anthony, a run of the mill fellow new to the city."

"You didn't tell her who you are!" Emmett exclaimed. "As your head of security, this is a terrible idea. Almost as bad as you ditching your guard this afternoon to wander Brooklyn."

Edward smirked. "Pretty sure I'm the boss here."

"Your mom's my boss, dude. She'd deport me in a minute if I lost you."

"Of course she wouldn't, she's practically adopted you. Don't eat those all!"

"I thought we were going back tomorrow," Emmett said around pastry. "Even though that would be the worst place for you to try to be undercover. I saw that huge flag out front." He snuck another look at his companion's face. "It is the girl, isn't it? Is it _the_ girl?" He paused for a second, assessing Edward's expression.. "Ok, we'll go when they're not busy."


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you to everyone who read, reviewed, and followed the first chapter. I hope wherever y'all are, you're safe and well.

* * *

The next day, Bella arrived early at the bakery to find a large vase of Escrovian wildflowers nestled next to a potted basil plant on the bakery doorstep. She stopped, looking around the street as if to find where it came from. At only 5AM, she was surprised to see them there at all, let alone left here at such an early time for her to find. She unlocked the door and brought both inside. A card within the bouquet said simply "Ma belle, thank you for the kind welcome to New York."

Ma belle, she thought, my beauty.

She smiled widely, remembering her visitor from yesterday.

She arranged both above one of her workstations in the back, near a window and far from the heat and steam of the ovens.

Then, turning the radio on, she started in on the day's bakes.

* * *

The next day, Edward sighed, watching the Minister of Commerce from a small central European country expound on the price of olives. The man would not yield the floor for over thirty minutes, during which the press corp from his country delightedly took photos of their government in action. Edward's gaze scanned around everyone else in the room, who all looked like they were going to fall asleep.

Finally, the man reached his point about regional fraternity, etcetera. The audience shook itself awake and stumbled into polite applause.

Edward seized the opportunity to check his phone. It was just past three. It would be cutting it close for him to leave here, nip uptown, and try to catch his favorite Brooklyn baker. He should have gotten her number the other day. He had meetings scheduled until late tonight though, and Aro Denali, one of the senior diplomats assisting Edward on this trip, had given him an inscrutable expression when he returned from his first jaunt to Brooklyn did not make him feel comfortable leaving any other meetings yesterday.

"Do we have anything else on the schedule before the dinner with Israel?" he asked Nahuel, one of their junior assistants.

The younger boy shook his head. "Nothing until 7PM, your Majesty."

He allowed himself a small smile. "It's Prince Edward, Nahuel."

"Yes, your Majesty," he replied automatically.

Edward laughed at his stricken expression. "We'll work on it," he said. Nahuel was still new, and it always took newer people a while to relax around him. It was why he was so eager to go be around someone normal for a little bit.

He rose from his seat, nodding at Aro behind him.

"Prince Edward, will we be seeing you at dinner?" he heard Aro call behind him.

Edward turned, surprised. "Of course. It is my responsibility to represent our people, and I have never shirked my responsibility."

Aro smirked a bit. "Just checking, your majesty."

Edward's mouth tightened. "I will see you there."

Pushing open the conference room door, he met Emmett's eyes. Emmett accompanied him almost everywhere, and during boring meetings like these, he got to wait outside with the other support teams. Edward was a bit jealous, as he knew Emmett spent most of the time calling his girlfriend back home and playing games on his phones.

"Fancy a snack before dinner?" Edward asked as his friend joined him.

Emmett waggled his eyebrows. "What are you in the mood for?"

Edward shoved him lightly. "I think we have enough time to beat rush hour traffic uptown."

The cafe was almost closed when Bella looked up from her pastry dough, smiling when she saw Anthony and another tall man studying the menu with interest. They were both dressed in formal, dark suits that looked expensive and well-tailored to her untrained eyes. Anthony had dark sunglasses over his eyes that he only took off once they were inside. He looked over and caught her eye, his lips crooking up in a smile. She felt her own expression mirror his.

The guy behind Anthony started laughing and nudged him.

Bella blushed. Was she very obvious?

Anthony pushed his friend back and then left him standing in line, crossing the cafe to walk up to her counter.

"Hello again, ma belle." His accent was familiar and yet so sexy.

"Hey stranger. Oh, I'm sorry, if you're here for my grandfather he's already left for the day." She bit her lip, trying to keep her expression serious.

He laughed. "As much as I enjoyed meeting Pietro, I did not come all this way to see him."

She finished rolling her puff pastry around the walnut filling. "Oh really? What brings you to Brooklyn?"

"Free dessert, of course."

She looked up with a mock scowl and he laughed again. "I'm only joking. My friend Emmett over there ate all the pastellitos when I brought them to work yesterday and he insisted we come back."

She looked over and his large friend was now ordering from Lauren, their cashier, and from the look of the box she was filling, he was ordering the majority of their remaining treats.

Anthony caught her expression and said "He's Escrovian too, of course, and he likes to eat. The least I could do is bring in business when you were so kind the other day."

Bella smiled back at him. "Well we love newcomers here."

"Well, we love delicious food." He leaned over the glass separating them for a moment. "So what's this? Walnut pinwheels too? You do everything, Bella?"

She blushed. "Flattery will not get you more free food. But yes, we do it all." She gestured toward the now significantly-emptier display case, and Emmett, now carrying a very large bag.

"Bella, I am not one for undue flattery. And I don't drive across Manhattan during rush hour for sugar." His voice was low and serious.

She looked up and met his gaze.

"Bella, I'm about set here if you want to finish up and head out," Angela called from the back. She poked her head out. "I was thinking for tomorrow we could - oh, I didn't realize we had customers still."

Angela was her cousin, her business partner, and her best friend. Her gaze wandered curiously between Bella and the tall Escrovian. Bella realized that they were standing pretty closely together, even with the counter separating them, and she fought back a blush.

"That's ok, Ang. I can close up if you want to get going," Bella said.

"If you're done here I can buy you a coffee somewhere," Anthony offered quietly. "I owe you for the pastellitos."

"Perfect!" Angela said. "Lauren and I will close up so you can get coffee." She winked at Bella.

Bella rolled her eyes. "Alright, give me ten minutes to finish these," she said.

Emmett wandered over. "Did someone say coffee?" He had opened his package already and was happily munching on a scone. His eyes seemed to flick meaningfully over to Bella before returning to Anthony.

"Yes, I'm going to stop for coffee after this. With Bella. Bella, this is my friend Emmett."

Bella nodded over the counter at the bigger man.

"Nice to meet you!" Emmett was enthusiastic, barely pausing in eating. "I'll meet you later then, man? Don't forget."

Anthony nodded and Emmett ambled off. "Don't eat all of those before I get back!" Anthony shouted after him.

Bella focused back in on her pinwheels, carefully wrapping the walnut-filled logs in circles and ticking slits into the sides. She grabbed a quarter sheet pan from the rack behind her, quickly covering it with parchment paper and transferring the pastries.

"How long have you been doing this?" Anthony asked, watching her well-practiced manners.

"My whole life," she said, easily stacking two pans onto her arm. She pivoted and opened the fridge behind her, sliding both pans onto empty shelves to chill overnight before being baked tomorrow morning.

She sighed in satisfaction and took off her apron. "I'll be right back," she called to Anthony, running in back to wash up. She scrubbed a bit of butter and flour off her arms and her cheek.

Angela walked by. "So who's Flirty McFlirtface out front?"

"His name is Anthony, not McFlirtface."

"Is he the one that sent you the flowers?" Angela had hounded her about them when she saw them yesterday. "How long has this been happening?"

"He stopped in two days ago after we closed. He's Escrovian, obviously. Papi came in afterward and gave him the whole welcome speech." They both rolled their eyes, having heard the speech many times.

"Good, you need to go out and have some fun," Ang said.

Bella nodded, acknowledging what her cousin wasn't saying. "Thanks, I owe you."

"No you don't, you work too much as it is!" Angela pushed Bella back through the swinging door into the front of the cafe.

Anthony stood from where he'd been leaning against one of the stools. Her gaze caught on his trim, _clean_ outfit. She looked down at her snug jeans and the t shirt, which was flecked with flour.

"You look great," he said, correctly guessing what she was thinking "I came from work so I'm overdressed."

"Thank you." She led him out of the bakery and toward the Russian teahouse down the street, which she knew was open late. "What do you do?"

He immediately covered his eyes with the sunglasses again. He kept glancing around as they walked down the sidewalk. She shrugged it off, having seen many tourists gawk at the skyscrapers.

"I work in international trade," Anthony said finally. "Oh, this is lovely," he said as they came up to the teahouse. "I love how New York has so many cultures just jammed up on each other like this. Amazing."

"It's a teahouse but they make a mean espresso. And I didn't take you for a Starbucks type," she explained, leading him inside.

They ordered and then settled onto the couch. Since it was late afternoon, the cafe was almost empty except for one other table of a couple men in suits that came in right after them.

"I am not a Starbucks type, so this was a good choice. And what of you, ma belle? What do you do when you're not feeding the neighborhood dessert?"

Bella shrugged. "I read a lot. We have a lot of amazing museums here. I spend a lot of time with my family. But the bakery keeps me busy." She paused to sip at her latte.

She should be nervous. This was her first date since she broke up with her ex. She barely knew the guy she was here with, which was something her parents would have warned her against. And to top it off, she felt like Anthony was the most attractive guy she had ever met, and somehow he was sitting here with her, while she was still in her work clothes. But somehow, she felt weirdly comfortable with him.

"How long have you worked there?"

She smiled. "Forever." She caught his expression. "I mean, I pulled a couple shifts here when I was younger. We all did, and do, all of the cousins. Bussing tables, running the registry, scrubbing pans. Getting into mischief."

"Did you always want to be a baker?"

She laughed and shook her head. "Not at all." He raised his eyebrows. "Oh, I didn't mean it like that. This isn't a Cinderella trapped by her stepmother type of story. I just wasn't planning on being here forever. My parents don't work here; this was always my grandparents' operation. My grandmother got sick while I was in college and I started working more between classes to pick up the slack. She passed away before I graduated, and I just naturally took over. My grandfather was devastated, and I don't know what he would have done without us. Angela, who was there today, she's my cousin and she runs the front of the house."

Anthony was still studying her intently. "That was pretty selfless of you to step in."

She shook her head. "No, no, don't read too much into that. I went to school because that was what was expected of me, but I wasn't sure what I wanted to do after graduation. I majored in math because I like precision and order and certainty and that's what baking is all about. The more time I spent in classrooms and hunched over my laptop, the more I appreciated being able to be here and knead bread and work with my hands and use numbers in the real world instead of on a spreadsheet." She shrugged. "I didn't have a plan for after I graduated, but I loved being here. I may not be here forever, but for now…" She blushed. "Sorry, what a long-winded answer."

He reached out and gently lifted her chin. "I wouldn't ask if I didn't want to hear the answer." She stared up at him, realizing how close they were. She wondered if he would kiss her. His eyes darted down to her lips for a moment, as if considering it, before he moved back finally.

She took a breath, trying to calm her racing heartbeat. She somehow missed the heat of his body as he leaned back against the couch.

"Well, now you know my whole life story. Tell me about you. What did you want to be when you were younger?" Bella asked finally, striving to keep her voice level and cool.

Anthony smirked. "You have to promise not to make fun of me." He waited for her agreement before continuing. "So in Escrovia, there are horse drawn carriages that go along the main street. For tourists and traditional ceremonies and such. I always thought that looked like so much fun. Some of them dress up in old-fashioned outfits, and some of them are wearing tennis shoes and jumpers." She laughed at how he phrased that, but waved him on. "And I always wanted a pet growing up, so having a horse would be like having an awesome pet. I could give tours or just act as a wingman when men try to impress their dates."

"That does sound fun. I bet you would be a good wingman."

"Yeah I would know the romantic spots to bring them to make the girls all impressed, you know." He looked down at his coffee, almost bashfully.

"Do you take all the girls back home on carriage rides?" Bella struggled to make her voice impartial, or teasing.

Anthony met her gaze, and she was worried he would call her bluff. Instead, he said, "No, but I would take you."

She struggled mightily to contain her blush and how happy that made her.

His phone rang and he sighed, pulling out of his pocket. "I'm sorry, just a moment," he apologized as he answered. His voice, when he was speaking on the phone, was quiet and curt and not at all how he was when he was speaking to her. He held a short, tense conversation in Escrovian that was too fast for her to follow. He ended the call and looked back at her, his jaw tense. "I'm sorry, but I have a few things to go handle at work." His green eyes were full of regret.

"That's too bad, it's awfully late for a work emergency." Bella tried to not let her disappointment show on her face. This was not even their first date, but she had been having a good time flirting.

She caught Anthony looking over to the other table in the teahouse, to the men in suits. "Let me walk you back to the bakery. You live nearby?"

Bella smiled at his chivalry. "I do. I'll be fine."

"Please let me anyway. I'd rather know you're safe." He stood and offered her his arm.

She smiled. Jake, her ex, had accused her of being too old fashioned. Anthony was his complete opposite. Maybe this is just what she needed.

As they started walking back, Anthony leaned close to speak with her. "I want to tell you that this never happens, but my work can be very demanding. It can be stressful and high pressure and I keep crazy hours."

Bella listened, wondering where he was going with this.

"It's important that you know that if you want to go further. Because I think you're brilliant and I want to know you better."

Her face split into a beam. "Are you asking me for my phone number?"

He nodded. "Can I call you?"

"Of course!" They reached the bakery, and he drew her out of the foot traffic of the sidewalk to huddle in the bakery doorway. It was closed and locked, giving them a bit of privacy. He passed her his phone but had to show her how to add his phone number. "You promise to call?" she asked in a teasing voice.

"Do you promise to answer?" Gently, he tilted her head up he quickly kissed her on the cheek.

"I'll answer," she said, trying to keep her cool.

"Good, because I'll call. Until then, ma belle."

He drew away and slid into a black SUV that was illegally parked on the side of the street nearby. When the door opened, she caught sight of Emmett from the driver's seat giving her a cheerful wave.

How long had he been there? she wondered. She waited for the car to drive away before touching her cheek where Anthony had kissed her, feeling a bit giddy.


End file.
